It's been too long, I know! Holidays are a hectic time of the year. I hope you all had a great time with you friends and family celebrating and had a great year. My year was not the best, but Christmas was great and a new year is almost here - a good time to start over. Anyway, here's the story!
It was scary, but Neal kind of felt like he was starting to belong somewhere again. He wanted to embrace the feeling, take it in for all that it was worth, but he was afraid of what might happen if he did. He could have read the signs wrong and his father was right - he really wasn't someone that anyone wanted, he didn't belong anywhere. What would Peter and Elizabeth do if they knew everything that he had done to survive? Would they just send him back to Juvie and never look back? Or would they understand that he was just trying to make it through his harsh life the only way he knew how? Neal was too afraid to find out to ever tell them anything.
Peter was an FBI agent and if he knew about how many crimes Neal had committed he would most likely send him back to Juvie. Why would anyone even want a criminal in their home anyway? It didn't make sense to Neal, but there must have been some sort of reason. He just hoped that that reason wouldn't go away. He desperately wanted to belong somewhere again, but would anyone want him if they knew who he really was? Would the Burkes? It was unlikely.
It hadn't escaped Neal's notice that Peter was a big guy, bigger than Neal's father and much bigger than Neal himself, and he could easily hurt Neal if he wanted to. Neal wanted to think that Peter wouldn't lash out and hurt him if he did something stupid enough to warrant that much anger, but his instincts - instincts that had been literally beat into him - told him that he should be wary of the strong agent. Peter had never hurt him, he even went out of his way not to touch Neal, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't throw a punch if Neal screwed up enough. Neal's father hadn't beat him until his wife passed away. Everyone had their breaking point when their tolerance for Neal's mess ups were tested too much. The question was what Peter's breaking point would be. Would it be if he gave them the wrong intel on accident and caused a criminal to escape? If an agent got hurt because of him? If he got an F at school? Or got in a fight? Maybe stayed out past his curfew? Left his two-mile radius? Those would have been reasons his father would have beat him.
Neal knew that it was his fault his mother died - he had been too scared and cowardly to do anything when that man had pointed a gun at her. He also knew it was his fault that his father had lost his job being a cop - the man hadn't been able to focus on anything besides his grief. If Neal hadn't been so weak three years ago then his mother would still be alive and they'd all still be a family. Neal's father had always been hostile toward Neal by yelling at him when he screwed up, but he never threw any punches until Neal's mother died. He didn't really deserve it until then. Things were better then. Not great, but better. Neal knew he was a screw-up, but if he could keep that hidden from the Burkes then they just might want to keep him. At least that was what he was dreaming for.
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Peter was not happy. His day started out with him accidentally spilling hot coffee on his favorite tie, then two of his agents got into a heated argument about who was the one that connected the dots and found out where a suspect was hiding out. After that was squared away, while taking down said suspect later in the day, Peter soaked his new shoes in a muddy puddle that looked more like a small pond than anything. Then when he was in the middle of getting the same suspect to admit to the pump-and-dump scam that he had going, a probie came into the interrogation room to inform him that Neal had gotten into a fight at school.
Peter swore, the kid couldn't be let alone for five minutes without getting into trouble.
After driving back to Brooklyn to the school, Peter stalked around the building, navigating himself around teenage kids on their way to and from class, until he found the principals office. He could have used the app on his phone to figure out where Neal was - a benefit of having a tracking anklet attached to his troublesome ward - but he decided to find it himself.
Sitting a few seats apart from each other outside the office was Neal and another, much larger jock looking kid. From the quick glance Peter gave them, he saw that Neal had a few bruises on his face while the other kid didn't seem at all hurt. What had Neal done to get on that kids bad side?
Ignoring Neal's pleading blue eyes, Peter went into the principals office to talk to the principal. The snooty looking man informed him that Neal and a kid named Josh got into a fight, but neither would tell why. After the principal told Peter that Neal would be let off with a warning and Peter said that he was going to bring Neal home early, the agent left the office to see that Neal was still there, but the other kid was gone.
"Where's the kid that was sitting with you? Josh?" Peter asked, anger and annoyance seeping into his words.
Neal had looked up at Peter when he came out, but lowered his gaze after the agent spoke, guilt written all over his bruised face. "His dad picked him up," he said softly.
Peter wiped a hand down his face as he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He was originally supposed to be keeping the teenage con in line while he consulted with the FBI, but now it seemed like he was raising the kid."Let's go," he said after a minute, beckoning Neal to follow him as he started walking down the locker-walled hallway.
Neal took longer to catch up to Peter than he expected, but the agent didn't slow down. Peter didn't speak or look at Neal until they were in the Taurus.
When Peter got behind the wheel of his car, he got a good look at the kid. He could see that Neal had bruises forming around his left eye and there was some dried blood under his nose as well as on his chin from his split lip. It looked like he had gotten into quite the fight, but that didn't simmer Peter's anger enough not to yell at the kid.
"Why the hell did you get into a fight with that kid, Neal?" Peter asked, trying to think of the reasons he had gotten into fights when he was a teenager - it seemed so long ago. Peter had only gotten into one fight when he was younger - one that only involved a shove and two punches, much less than what appeared to have happened with Neal and that josh kid - and it was over a girl. 'Please don't let this be over a girl,' Peter thought exasperatedly. Neal did not need that kind of drama in his life right now.
Neal tensed at Peter's harsh tone, but the agent ignored it. "Nothing, Peter. Just some stupid teenager stuff," he mumbled dismissively, obviously not wanting to tell Peter.
"I don't want a bullshit answer, I want the truth. Now spill it," Peter said, getting even more annoyed.
Neal sighed, then started explaining. "Josh started a rumor that I was arrested for murder and got a light sentence because you're my stepdad or something. Now everyone thinks I'm some sort of dangerous criminal that shouldn't be allowed to be in school. I think it started out as a joke, but it only escalated. And it never got physical until today," he added, almost sounding like he was defending the other kid.
Some of Peter's anger was aimed towards someone else at the mention of Neal's status effecting him at school. "This was because of the anklet?" Peter asked, a little angrier than he meant to.
Neal nodded, the action slightly timid, as he stared at his lap, his body still tense.
Peter both hated and liked the tracking anklet - he hated it because it seemed wrong to confine a teenager, thief or not, it such a way, like he was an animal or something, and he liked it because he always knew where Neal was and if he knew where he was, he would always be able to bring him home.
"What happened?" Peter asked, his voice softer than before.
"He cornered me after class and just started pounding on me. He said that he was trying to protect the other kids by scaring me away, but I think he just wanted a punching bag...He has some problems at home," he explained, sounding sympathetic. Trust Neal to psychoanalyze the kid that was beating on him.
"You didn't even start the fight or throw a punch?" Peter asked, making sure he had heard right. It didn't sound like the fight was at all Neal's fault. Peter suddenly felt bad for rushing to the conclusion that Neal had been somehow at fault.
Neal shook his head. "He took me by surprise and I couldn't get him off of me," he said, sounding like he was defending himself a little.
The fight hadn't even been Neal's fault and Peter had yelled at him before he had been given a chance to tell him his story. Peter had been grumpy from his bad day, but that was no excuse to be angry at Neal. Only then did Peter notice the arm that Neal had wrapped protectively around his abdomen, and he was still tense, like he was waiting for Peter to yell at him more. Or maybe something worse. Peter had never even thought about hurting Neal, but it seemed that Neal still thought that he might if he crossed a line. Neal's previous experience with his former abuser obviously made an impression on how he expected others to act.
"How badly did he hurt you?" Peter asked, a lot more worried than he was a few seconds ago.
"I've had worse," Neal said vaguely, waving it off like it was nothing.
"That doesn't really reassure me, Neal," Peter replied, not really wanting to think of how bad 'worse' had been.
"Nothing's broken, if that's what you're wondering," Neal said, his voice a little edgy.
"I was wondering if you were okay," Peter said, his voice soft and caring.
Neal looked at Peter for a minute, his expression of masked confusion, before turning his gaze back to his lap. "I'm fine," he said quietly.
Peter sighed, accepting the answer for the time being. "How long have the other kids been picking on you about the anklet?" Peter asked after a thought came to him, feeling guilty for not even thinking about how the anklet would affect Neal at school. Peter had discussed Neal's situation with the administrator of the school before Neal even took his placement tests. The man had been fine with Neal going to his school once he found out that the kid was non-violent. But apparently the kids there thought that Neal was violent, which was not acceptable.
Neal shrugged as he looked down, his wavy brown hair covering his eyes and looking so much like the troublesome teenager that Peter some times forgot he was. "Josh started the rumor a few weeks ago, but it's really not that big of a deal, Peter," he said, trying to make light of a serious situation. Neal had been dealing with kids thinking that he was a killer for weeks, and he still thought that it didn't need to be stopped?
"It's a big deal if you're being bullied," Peter said seriously.
"I'm not being bullied," Neal said, anger showing in his voice for the first time. Apparently the kid didn't like the word.
"Whatever you'd like to call it, it's going to stop," Peter said, determined to fix the situation.
"How?" Neal asked, doubt clear in his voice.
Peter opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He really didn't have a plan to fix this yet. "I don't know how to yet, but we're going to figure this out, okay? You shouldn't be treated this way," Peter eventually said, no longer angry at Neal. "You should have told me sooner," he said after a moment.
"I can fight my own battles, Peter," Neal said, repeating what he said not so long ago in Juvie. Apparently the kid really thought he could handle the situation, and any others that might come up, himself.
"You don't have to, Neal. Not anymore," Peter said quietly, seriously, looking Neal in the eyes. It was the same thing that Peter had said then as well, but this time he could really do something to help Neal.
"So...you're not mad at me?" Neal asked, his voice doubtful and hopeful at the same time.
Peter shook his head. "No, Neal. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I've just had a bit of a tough day."
Neal had that strange, surprised look on his face again, like he had never heard an apology before. He always had the same look when he was given a compliment as well, like when Elizabeth saw a picture of sunflowers in a vase that Neal had drawn on the blank part of a 515 form one day. Neal had belittled his talent and threw the drawing away before Peter could see it. Elizabeth had asked Neal if he wanted to sign up for an art class, but he declined and changed the subject quickly. That look always made Peter want to hug the kid, but he still was a little wary of touches, though not really from Elizabeth. Peter's anger towards the man that had caused that re-ignited every time he accidentally got too close to Neal and that nearly-scared look appeared on his face.
Neal must have felt a little uneasy under Peter's gaze because he tried to lighten the mood a little. "The work of an FBI agent never ends," he joked, a slightly uneasy smile on his face.
"Unfortunately not," Peter muttered, playing along. Neal's smile relaxed into something more real, letting Peter know that he could relax as well.
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Neal and Peter were sitting at either side of the dining room table, working over their current case, when Elizabeth got home. "We're in hear, hon," Peter called when he heard the front door open and close, knowing she'd easily be able to place were his voice came from.
After taking off her coat and scarf, she walked into the dining room to see them. "Hey, boys. How was your-" Elizabeth immediately stopped short when she saw the state of Neal's face. "Oh my god, Neal! What happened, sweetie?" she asked as she rushed over to Neal, cupping his face delicately and looking closely at the bruises.
Neal opened his mouth, probably to play down his injuries, but Peter beat him to it. "He got into a fight at school - one that wasn't at all his fault," Peter added, wanting to make sure Elizabeth knew that Neal didn't do anything to provoke the kid that hurt him.
The wrinkle of concern between her eyes deepened. "Oh, sweetie. Lets get some ice for your eye," she said, making Peter feel a little stupid for not thinking of that.
Neal was guided towards the kitchen by Elizabeth, his expression a little confused by her concern. Even after more than a month, the kid still didn't seem to understand that both Peter and Elizabeth cared deeply for him. Wasn't it obvious by now?
Over Neal's shoulder, Elizabeth gave Peter a look that told him that they'd talk about this in length later.
With an ice pack covering his left eye - the old-fashioned kind, white with little blue stars on it - Neal came back into the dining room with Elizabeth, where Peter was cleaning up the papers that were scattered all over the table. Now that Elizabeth was home, they were done with work for the day.
"I was thinking that we'd order some take-out tonight. How's that sound?" Peter said as he gave Elizabeth the kiss she didn't get when she got home since she had been worried about Neal.
"Sounds good to me. What did you have in mind?" Elizabeth asked.
"How about that Chinese place that has those great dumplings? Mei Shi Lin?" Neal suggested before Peter could say anything, face brightening at the thought of the delicious dumplings.
"I'll get the menu," Elizabeth said happily, then went back into the kitchen.
Apparently as an unspoken agreement, Peter was designated to place the order. After that was done, Peter joined his wife and ex-con in the living room.
"Why don't you go clean up and change into something more comfortable before food gets here?" Elizabeth said to Neal, obviously trying to get the kid out of the room so she could speak with Peter alone.
Neal nodded, then got up and went upstairs, walking more carefully than he had yesterday. Usually he nearly bounced off the walls when he went up the stairs while somehow not even making any noise, his natural grace allowing him to move silently through the house. There were some steps that creaked if enough pressure was put on certain spots, but Neal knew which ones did by now and seemed to always avoid them. But whether he did it unconsciously or not, Peter didn't know.
"What happened?" Elizabeth asked the moment Neal was out of earshot, concern and confusion clear in her voice.
Peter sat down on the couch next to his wife and filled her in on what had happened earlier and what Neal had told him, not even leaving out how he had been grumpy and accidentally took his frustrations out on Neal by not hearing his side of the story before yelling at him. Elizabeth listened to his explanation silently and Peter was relieved to see that she wasn't upset with him for jumping to conclusions too quickly.
"That's horrible! The poor boy. He doesn't deserve that," Elizabeth said when he finished telling her why Josh had attacked Neal.
"I know," Peter said grimly. "We're going to have to figure out how to fix this, but I'm not sure how to yet."
"Did you take him to the hospital to get checked out?" Elizabeth asked after a moment, concern set in her beautiful blue eyes, eyes that were so close to the same shade as Neal's.
"No. He said that he was fine," Peter said, feeling like he needed to defend himself a little. Peter didn't think that the kid was going to keel over from his injuries, though he was no expert and hadn't even seen what state his abdomen was in. Neal was able to hide a lot of things from Peter pretty easily, but Peter doubted that he'd be able to hide the amount of pain he would have been in if his injuries were life-threatening.
"And you believed him?" Elizabeth asked, both exasperated and incredulous.
Peter nodded, starting to feel like he should have taken Neal to the hospital, ignoring the kids complaints and objections the whole way there.
"He's a teenage boy, Peter, one that's been previously...mistreated," she said, carefully avoiding a harsher word. "'Fine' to him is probably 'most likely no internal injuries.'"
"He told me that nothing was broken," Peter said, not liking what Neal knowing how to tell if anything was broken meant.
Elizabeth gently chewed her lip for a moment, deciding what to do. "If his condition worsens, we're taking him to the hospital, but for now we're going to take his word for it," she stated. It wasn't a suggestion, it was what they were going to do, and Peter was fine with that.
Elizabeth then went into the kitchen to gather plates and silverware while Peter checked the news on TV. Well, she was just getting plates and a fork for Peter because he had never bothered to learn how to use chopsticks (forks worked just fine, thank you very much) while both Elizabeth and Neal used the two wooden sticks with ease.
It took Peter by surprise when Neal walked down the stairs a few minutes later in the agent's old grey Quantico sweatshirt. It must have been one of the things that Elizabeth had given Neal before she went on a shopping spree for the kid, Peter figured.
Even though the sweatshirt was too small for Peter now - his Quantico days were quite a while ago - it seemed to be swallowing Neal's much smaller frame, his hands disappearing in the long sleeves. It seemed to knock about ten years off the kids age, making him look like a six-year-old playing dress-up in his fathers clothes. Peter tried to push down the warm, fuzzy feeling the thought brought to his heart. He wasn't very successful.
Neal had been smiling when he came down, but Peter must have been staring too long because the kid started to squirm under the agent's gaze. He looked down at the sweatshirt, then back up at Peter.
"Do you want me not to wear this?" Neal asked, looking unsure about his clothing decision. "Elizabeth bought everything else for me, but she didn't really get me something as warm and soft as this. But I can find something else if you want me to."
Peter remembered how soft and warm the sweatshirt had been. "No, it's fine. I can't wear it anymore, so you might as well," Peter said, not letting his emotions show, but for what reason? Maybe he didn't want to admit to himself what the kid was doing to his heart, how he wanted to take Neal in and protect him and never let him see the dark side of life ever again, to hide him from all the evils of the world.
Neal smiled, oblivious to Peter's internal battle, then went into the kitchen to help Elizabeth.
Dinner was a quiet, relatively normal occasion, as per usual. All three of them had become more comfortable around each other in the last month, making small-talk a lot easier and awkward silences non-existent.
As Peter looked at the two blue-eyed brunettes sitting at the dining room table with him, as he smiled fondly when they laughed about something he hadn't been paying attention to, he thought that maybe this was how it was supposed to be. It was entirely possible for Peter and Elizabeth to take Neal in permanently, have him become part of the family. The kid needed someone the guide him, to love him. Peter and Elizabeth could be that for him. It wouldn't take any persuading with Elizabeth for it to happen - she loved the kid as much as Peter realized he did. Maybe, just maybe, the Burkes would be able to adopt Neal, have him become part of the family. The thought brought that warm, fuzzy feeling back to Peter's heart and made him smile again.
"What are you smiling about?" Elizabeth asked when Neal went into the kitchen to get a drink, looking at her husband with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
"Nothing," Peter said, unable to make his smile disappear.
Elizabeth looked to the kitchen, where Peter's gaze was as well, then back at Peter with a knowing smile. Peter was never able to keep anything from his wife and this was just another instance where she could see right through him.
"Right, nothing," she said, then expertly used the one-time-use chopsticks that came with the meal to bring a dumpling up to her mouth.
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I watched 'All In' (season 1, episode 6) the other day and saw that Peter used a fork for eating the dumpling at the end of the episode while Neal used chopsticks. That restaurant was the one they were talking about in this chapter, if you were wondering. I never bothered to learn how to use chopsticks myself - forks are just easier and I like to leave the more challenging chopsticking to the dexterous while I use my plain old forks.
The ice pack described in this chapter was from 'Vidal Signs' (season 1, episode 10) when Peter brought Neal to his house after he was drugged. I think that episode is a favorite to many.
The 515 form mentioned is from 'Bad Judgment' (season 1, episode 9) where a little girl drew Agent Burke on a 515 form. I thought it would be fun to bring in a few things from the show to my story. I had also used quotes from the Pilot when Neal got his ID.
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